away and then bolted down the hallway, Michael on her heels in that slow, predatory walk like the villain in a horror film. So sure he’ll reach his prey. The hall ended with a door that led to a half-basement. She’d get out that way and disappear for a few hours to let him cool off.
The door was locked. She twisted the knob frantically as if she could make it open with added exertion.
She turned then, her back pressed flat against the door, Michael only a few feet from her. He caged her with his hands and large body. She felt her hips arch toward his, as if this were foreplay instead of potential danger.
Fuck. What’s wrong with me? He could have thrown her down on the ground right then and taken her from behind like an animal, and she would have orgasmed, maybe even before his pants hit the floor.
Her breath came out in shallow pants, her cheeks flushed from running. “Why is the door locked?”
He arched a brow. “I keep important business files down there.”
“Since when?”
“Awhile.” The word ground out between his teeth. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t know she was trying to distract herself from the aching throb that had settled between her legs, making her overwhelmingly conscious of his maleness.
Anton had ignited something in her, awakened a beast that had been in slumber. Her libido had never been like this. She’d never been this desperate for release. She’d never wanted Michael more.
“What the hell has gotten into you lately, Vivi? You’re not yourself.”
She looked away, unable to take that penetrating stare any longer. He knew her far too well to maintain a secret of this magnitude for long.
She shrugged.
“It stops now.”
A part of her snapped free, and she ached for something she couldn’t put a name to, something she had no context to understand. She felt her body flushing, her breath coming in huge, heaving gasps as she tried to get control of herself. One hand still gripped the door handle, while the other clenched and unclenched at her side. It took every ounce of willpower not to launch herself at him and provoke him further.
Provoke him to what? God, what the fuck is wrong with me? she asked herself again. Yet the answer didn’t come.
Michael stepped back, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. “I’m leaving in the morning on a business trip. I’ll be gone two weeks.”
She released the door knob. “What? Why?” She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been away. “What will I do with my access to the accounts frozen?”
“I’ll have groceries delivered. If you need anything else before I return, you can call me.”
“Are you having an affair?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she’d realized they’d entered her brain.
He laughed. Not just a chuckle, or a derisive snort, but a full-on laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“I can’t believe you’d care if I was.”
“So are you?” He hadn’t tried to touch her since the last time. The morning sex.
“You’re the only one I want, Vivi. And God help me for that.” His eyes softened, and for a moment she thought he’d sweep her into a kiss. Instead, he took another step back. “I’m going to pack. Clean up that mess in the dining room.”
She watched wordlessly as he turned and left her leaning against the basement door.
When Vivian had picked up the shattered china, used a carpet cleaner on the rug, vacuumed, and otherwise done what she would have after a normal dinner, she climbed the stairs to find Michael already asleep. His body sprawled across the bed as if he were sleeping off a hangover. His bags were packed and lined neatly next to the door.
Had they reversed roles? Was he the one now avoiding sex with her? Every scenario that played out in her mind revealed the same stark result. He had to know. But he couldn’t know the truth of it. He had to think she was cheating on him. But how? What had she done to give it away? And why wasn’t he confronting
The door was locked. She twisted the knob frantically as if she could make it open with added exertion.
She turned then, her back pressed flat against the door, Michael only a few feet from her. He caged her with his hands and large body. She felt her hips arch toward his, as if this were foreplay instead of potential danger.
Fuck. What’s wrong with me? He could have thrown her down on the ground right then and taken her from behind like an animal, and she would have orgasmed, maybe even before his pants hit the floor.
Her breath came out in shallow pants, her cheeks flushed from running. “Why is the door locked?”
He arched a brow. “I keep important business files down there.”
“Since when?”
“Awhile.” The word ground out between his teeth. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t know she was trying to distract herself from the aching throb that had settled between her legs, making her overwhelmingly conscious of his maleness.
Anton had ignited something in her, awakened a beast that had been in slumber. Her libido had never been like this. She’d never been this desperate for release. She’d never wanted Michael more.
“What the hell has gotten into you lately, Vivi? You’re not yourself.”
She looked away, unable to take that penetrating stare any longer. He knew her far too well to maintain a secret of this magnitude for long.
She shrugged.
“It stops now.”
A part of her snapped free, and she ached for something she couldn’t put a name to, something she had no context to understand. She felt her body flushing, her breath coming in huge, heaving gasps as she tried to get control of herself. One hand still gripped the door handle, while the other clenched and unclenched at her side. It took every ounce of willpower not to launch herself at him and provoke him further.
Provoke him to what? God, what the fuck is wrong with me? she asked herself again. Yet the answer didn’t come.
Michael stepped back, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. “I’m leaving in the morning on a business trip. I’ll be gone two weeks.”
She released the door knob. “What? Why?” She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been away. “What will I do with my access to the accounts frozen?”
“I’ll have groceries delivered. If you need anything else before I return, you can call me.”
“Are you having an affair?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she’d realized they’d entered her brain.
He laughed. Not just a chuckle, or a derisive snort, but a full-on laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“I can’t believe you’d care if I was.”
“So are you?” He hadn’t tried to touch her since the last time. The morning sex.
“You’re the only one I want, Vivi. And God help me for that.” His eyes softened, and for a moment she thought he’d sweep her into a kiss. Instead, he took another step back. “I’m going to pack. Clean up that mess in the dining room.”
She watched wordlessly as he turned and left her leaning against the basement door.
When Vivian had picked up the shattered china, used a carpet cleaner on the rug, vacuumed, and otherwise done what she would have after a normal dinner, she climbed the stairs to find Michael already asleep. His body sprawled across the bed as if he were sleeping off a hangover. His bags were packed and lined neatly next to the door.
Had they reversed roles? Was he the one now avoiding sex with her? Every scenario that played out in her mind revealed the same stark result. He had to know. But he couldn’t know the truth of it. He had to think she was cheating on him. But how? What had she done to give it away? And why wasn’t he confronting
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